Quick note: Apologies for the delayed posting. Next chapter this week will release TH, at 7 AM PST.

CHAPTER FOUR

Ready Player One

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“Rowan,” Bram called, “how far did you go to catch a red grizzly?”

It didn’t take the trickster of legend an hour of trekking through the mountainside to retrieve the sacrifice they would later offer to summon Hajime’s soul that first time. She’d done it in minutes.

“‘Tis easier to track prey from high above.”

To be fair, Rowan could fly.

“I thought so.”

Neither Bram nor Nike had that power.

“Still,” he slipped from behind one tall pine to another, “she’s delving pretty deep for one red grizzly.”

An hour had passed since the two observers followed Nike up the mountain. She hadn’t stayed very long on the main trail either. The moment she’d found another footpath—one that cut right into the woods—she’d taken it, pressing on despite the added dangers of the road less traveled.

“She does seem to know where she’s headed,” Rowan noticed. “Did you give her any more hints?”

Bram shook his head. “She was gathering information in the town earlier. Perhaps one of the locals gave her directions.”

Indeed, Nike did seem to know what she was doing. She had already slain two wolpertingers since she set on this hidden path, a feat not even Chris could do without Bridget backing him up. At least not on their first day. The furry beasts with antlers between their tall ears were nothing like their hare cousins. Wolpertingers were territorial and quick to savagery when provoked. Yet Nike had slain each one she’d encountered, not with brute strength, but with a good understanding of her surroundings combined with a novel use of her staff’s enchantment.

Even now, she stalked a third wolpertinger, moving deftly from one tree to another much like Bram and Rowan were doing so that she might strike at it from behind.

“She’s clever, our player,” Rowan whispered.

Bram nodded.

The prince didn’t say it aloud, but watching Nike—seeing the skill in which she navigated this forest with ease or confidently fighting fel beasts and beating them—he once again felt justified in his choice to bring players to Aarde. Surely, they would help end his kingdom’s decline.

Nike crouched behind a thick bush. She leaned forward, planting one knee firmly on the ground.

“Here she goes again,” Rowan whispered.

She raised her staff with both hands, positioning it across her bosom like an archer drawing their bow. The dull orb of blue sorcerite pointed forward while the staff’s bladed tip slipped past the armpit.

“Chris once told me that Earthers rarely fight with swords,” Bram explained.

“I remember,” Rowan answered, and with a giggle added, “I teased him about mastering the art of stone throwing.”

Nike’s left hand slid forward, tightly gripping onto her staff’s neck. While her right hand drew back, sliding closer to the staff’s rear, causing her elbow to bend outward.

Further behind, Bram chuckled at Rowan’s answer.

“Mastery of stone throwing, wouldn’t that be a sight… But no, instead, they took the concept of a bow’s ranged attack further, and using Earth science, created a formidable weapon…one we may want to see on Aarde one day.”

“Oh, how so?”

“It’s a weapon similar to a staff, but with a hole traveling the length of it like a tunnel for a shard of iron to pass through at a speed even faster than an arrow in flight.”

While the observers whispered to each other, Nike’s head bent toward her staff. Clearly, she was taking aim, and the wolpertinger minding its own business was too far away to notice the danger of its hidden attacker.

“How does a shard of iron achieve such forward motion?” Rowan asked.

Bram’s face turned contemplative. “It’s a bit complicated, but, according to Chris, the staff wielder ignites a small amount of Earth’s equivalent to ‘Fire Powder’ to create a reaction of expanding gas which generates the high pressure of air that propels the shard forward… It’s why they call them…firearms.”

In his mind’s eye, Bram recalled another vision different from the cities of glass he’d often see in his dreams. It came rarely, but he’d never forgotten that scene of a desert not unlike what one might find in the Oasis Kingdom of Damasca. In that place baked by sunlight, men in similar clothes carried sticks of steel whose tips burst into flames like a salamander’s maw to launch shards of iron into enemies who were many yards away. Such soldiers—for what else could they be—took a similar stance to the one Nike had now.

“To achieve such force without magic, Earth science is quite ingenious,” Rowan whispered.

“It is,” Bram agreed, but seeing Rowan’s smirk, he added, “But?”

Rowan pointed. “‘Tis too much effort for a simple thing. With a staff and a bit of magic, Nike’s attack proves equal to the task if not better.”

As soon as these words left Rowan’s lips, she and Bram heard the distinct sound of energy crackling against air, and then the dull orb of sorcerite at the tip of Nike’s staff began to glow a fierce bluish hue. Drops of water formed in the air around it, coalescing into a single large ball that shot forward like a beam to strike Nike’s target from behind.

There was a sound akin to a hunting horn’s cry—and then a pained shriek tore through the quiet of the woods.

Even when fired from a range of twenty yards, that burst of water magic proved a devastating blow against the wolpertinger, though the sneak attack probably helped to increase the damage. And the wolpertinger, having lost one of its wings couldn’t leap into the air as easily as it should have.

“Did that remind you of anything?” Rowan asked.

Of course, it did. Bram had nearly died to a similar attack once back when he’d attempted to set Rowan free from her prison.

“It’s like a Ray of Fire.” He said, his brow furrowing slightly. “But Nike didn’t cast a spell.”

“No, and that’s the interesting part,” Rowan said. “While channeling her magic through the staff, she forcefully anchored its enchantment to the staff’s arcane focus, charging it until it was ready to burst at full power.”

“Like a dam holding back the river until the pressure becomes too much…”

“‘Tis an ingenious use of a staff’s ability to empower magic.”

Though it sounded simple, such a feat was easier said than done.

A staff was a complicated instrument whose arcane focus—which was a considerable size larger than a wand’s—required a lot of magical energy to activate. In comparison, a wand needed only a tiny amount of magic to ignite. For sorcerers who’d only begun to store magic in their bodies, the cost-efficient wand was the preferable tool. So, for Nike to manage charging her staff’s elemental attack to its most potent strength was a feat that proved her potential.

The fight didn’t end with a single sneak attack though.

Enraged, the wolpertinger charged at its attacker—but Nike held her post.

“She’s fearless,” Bram whispered.

It was fearlessness born from the lie that she was playing a game, but even those who believed the lie must exercise caution when faced with a fel beast’s savagery. Hajime was proof of this. Nike seemed made of sterner stuff though.

Her staff hummed with power once more, though the wolpertinger leaped into the air like a wounded bird to avoid the second blast of water magic that shot out of her wand. It dove down a moment later with sharp claws aimed at Nike’s face.

Nike slid to the side, avoiding the wolpertinger’s claws as it lashed out at her. Then, quick as a hart, she bounded back into range while twirling her staff around so she could drive its spear blade straight into the fel beast’s flank.

Blood gushed out of the new wound in the wolpertinger’s side, though it wasn’t enough to slay the beast. It dropped to the ground and then hopped right back up to try and take another swipe at Nike’s face.

Fortunately, with one wing blown off it, the fel beast’s speed had dropped considerably, giving Nike just enough time to twirl her staff around a second time so that its orb of sorcerite was once again aiming forward.

She didn’t have time to charge her magic, but the stream of water she fired from her staff at pointblank range was a powerful enough blow to send the wolpertinger crashing onto a nearby pine’s trunk.

Again, not enough to slay the fel beast, but the blow did cause the wolpertinger to stagger.

Seeing opportunity, Nike pressed forward, twirling her staff a third time to use its spear blade to gut the injured wolpertinger.

Bram cringed. “That’s going to hurt.”

“It’s a rather useful staff, isn’t it,” Rowan weighed in.

“Here.”

Bram quickly pulled up the item’s status.

Item: Staff of Rushing River Quality: Rare Type: Staff Damage: 1.5 x INT Damage Type: Water Properties: Versatile Weight: 5 lbs. Description: Made from the wood of a white ash tree drowned in the River Marche crossing of the Acrae Duchy, this staff hasn’t forgotten the river’s mighty flow, going so far as to imitate it with an enchantment that rushes forward like a flowing stream. Its spear’s tip provides versatility, ensuring the sorcerer is not disadvantaged even in close range. Boons: +10% to water magic resistance, +2 to Intelligence, +10% water elemental damage.

“It’s much stronger than Hajime’s wand,” Bram admitted begrudgingly.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He didn’t like that a wand that was once a prince’s belonging seemed inferior to a staff that had belonged to House Acrae. With such a staff, it was small wonder that Nike’s attacks proved so devastating against a single wolpertinger even though she’d yet to fully attune to it.

However, that same wolpertinger refused to die without a fight, and the fel beast showed even more savagery after it was cornered. For every piece of it Nike’s staff broke, the wolpertinger drew blood too. Its claws raked against the flesh barely protected by her leather vest. And with her arms bare, those claws dug deep. Indeed, were it not for her thick leather gloves, Nike might have been forced to drop her staff. That’s how savage the wolpertinger had become.

“I wish we had something to eat while we watched,” Bram whispered.

Rowan passed him a small bag.

“How…?”

“With age comes wisdom — and one should never spectate another’s adventure without a snack.”

Bram found several small cylindrical loaves inside the bag.

“This is Lorraine's bread.”

Bread made in the city of Lorraine was filled with a mixture of breadcrumbs, butter, and brown sugar. It was one of Lorraine Shire’s top exports…also one of Bram’s favorite treats.

“You’re a bloody genius.”

He was already taking a bite of a piece of Lorraine’s bread.

“I know.”

So was she.

Soon enough, the wolpertinger’s fire finally went out. The beast was tired. Its body was a bloody mess. Nike’s staff had proven it was worth the high cost of ten silvers. So, with a final channeling of magic, the staff’s orb flaring bright blue once more, Nike tore a fatal hole in the wolpertinger chest, winning herself a third victory.

CONGRATULATIONS! You’ve pushed yourself to new heights, increasing your Strength [+1] and Dexterity [+1].

As an observer, Bram was privy to all his target’s information. That included the notifications the Loom sent Nike.

Seeing her become stronger caused his fingers to twitch, nearly crushing the piece of bread still in his hand.

He was jealous. Angry even.

He wasn’t supposed to be just a spectator.

He wanted to fight too.

A hand wrapped around his, drawing Bram’s gaze away from Nike and toward Rowan’s questioning look.

“Remember the last time you let your emotions run rampant?”

Of course, he did.

It was during his fight with The Impure, the lesser demon of hunger that had possessed a willing Vicomte Henry Kleist. In that battle against the corrupted traitor, the prince’s heightened emotions awakened in him the power to use his rage as a catalyst for a killing blow. Bram won, but he nearly broke his own body as a result. Even worse, his ‘Dark Metamorphosis’ earned him the attention of a greater demon who’d invaded his mind while he was unconscious. Fortunately, Rowan had banished Wrath before it could corrupt Bram further.

Reminded of this experience, the prince’s mind cooled down, though not before his scar started itching, something it often did whenever his emotions got the best of him.

“Thanks…”

These days, Rowan’s touch was enough to soothe his thoughts which were quick to turn dark whenever he wasn’t paying attention.

“You’re really much better than cloud weed.”

“And not nearly as smelly.”

Now, while the observers gazed into each other’s eyes, each looking favorably at the other, the player who’d won her fight cleaned her wounds with water from the waterskin included in the basic ‘Adventuring Pack’ all players were given.

Besides the waterskin, a standard adventuring pack contained a bedroll, mess kit, first-aid kit, tinderbox, two torches, and a week’s worth of dried meat and mashed fruit. Oh, there were thirty feet of hemp rope included too. Bram had that added to the pack after his first adventure in Sundermount where a climb up the cliffside had become a more grueling challenge without rope to aid him, and the prince had never forgotten it.

Nike used the first-aid kit now, dabbing her wounds in a healing salve—a cleansing ointment that was much cheaper than the healing gels that healed wounds outright—before wrapping the cuts on her arms in a cloth bandage.

“She certainly knows how to take care of herself,” Rowan noticed.

“I think I know why,” Bram replied.

He pulled up Nike’s status through the administrator menu. From there, he tapped on [Backstory], an option only available for administrators.

According to Nike’s backstory, Lucy Lopez was a former peacekeeper—what Earthers called a police officer—for the same city that Chris, Hajime, and Bridget lived in. She was forced to retire early from service due to an injury earned in the line of duty. It was information discovered from her resume and job interview and corroborated by Chris who’d hired an investigation team to do a deep dive of alpha tester candidates’ backgrounds.

“She doesn’t seem injured,” Rowan said.

Nike had no noticeable scars, but such things weren’t always reflected in one’s soul.

“More like a wound of the heart, I think,” Bram replied.

The continuation of her backstory told the tragic tale of Nike’s loss, the death of her peacekeeping partner who was also her fiancé…at her own hands no less. Turned out, the man was…

“A serial killer,” Bram read, his brow furrowing. “I’m not sure what that means…”

“A demon of the blade, one consumed by thoughts of murder,” Rowan answered. “They were quite common before your Imperium’s time.”

“Were they?”

“‘Twas an age of constant strife. Murder and death were commonplace then.”

“They still are now…”

Bram’s brow furrowed.

“We just clothed them in pretty words and noble causes these days…”

He was no different.

Once, while Rowan attempted to summon their first traveler, Bram had made a silent vow to be useful in their partnership. While she focused on empowering the Loom, he would swing his blade enough for them both even if the result turned him into a demon of the blade.

Bram shook his head, banishing away the dark thoughts that seemed quick to come this day.

“Nike killed her love for the sake of justice,” Rowan assumed, her brow creasing slightly. “Now I know where her ability comes from.”

“What ability?” Bram asked.

“Haven’t you checked the rest of her status?”

He hadn’t.

He wanted first to witness her talents without the bias of the system’s knowledge coloring his observations. Having done this already, Bram thought it wouldn’t hurt to see why Nike seemed like such a capable hunter.

NAME: Lucy Lopez MONIKER: Nike RACE: Human (Earth) LEVEL: 1

Killing three wolpertingers was certainly not enough to increase one’s level. Chris, Hajime, and Bridget had spent a week in the Red Forest just to reach level three.

[JOB/s: Not yet determined]

JOB/s: Not yet determined

Yes, this was to be expected. Her path would remain unclear until Nike herself chose her job.

TITLE: [Alpha Tester]

Bram whistled. “This title increases all her stats by one. Lucky.”

HEALTH POINTS (HP): 120 MAGIC POINTS (MP): 200 STAMINA POINTS (SP): 100

“Look, she has more magic than you do,” Rowan teased.

“Hilarious,” Bram sighed.

He didn’t need to mention it aloud, but every time he saw a new user’s status, he’d always be jealous at seeing how much magic they had. His was a paltry fifteen, just barely enough to wield the system’s boons. Luckily, the Loom offered Bram other means to wield power…through a sacrifice of blood.

STRENGTH: 10 DEXTERITY: 14 CONSTITUTION: 12 INTELLIGENCE: 20 WISDOM: 12 WILLPOWER: 17

“Her willpower’s quite high,” Rowan noted.

Next, they saw her list of abilities—and it was quite surprising.

ACTIVE ABILITIES: [Unshakeable Justice Lv.1]

This must have been what Rowan was talking about.

“Have we ever had a user arrive with an active ability before?” Bram asked.

“Besides you, no,” Rowan answered.

Even more surprising, Nike’s power was like a more potent version of Chris’ ‘Power Strike,’ offering a hundred percent increased damage when used against a target, and it wasn’t limited to a physical attack. Nike could even apply it to a magic one. She could only use it once per short rest though, thereby proving the Loom’s balance was preserved.

“It’s certainly earned its name,” Bram said.

Neither Bram nor Rowan begrudged Nike her new power either. She’d gone through something quite tragic to have it just like how Bram’s struggles without magic resulted in ‘Status Emulation’ being born in him.

PASSIVE ABILITIES: [Athleticism Lv.1] [Gymnast Lv.1] [Law Bringer Lv.1] [Investigator Lv.1] [Survivalist Lv.1]

“She has more skills than our trio did when they arrived,” Bram noticed.

A quick inspection of [Survivalist] told him how Nike could trek through the woods with relative ease.

“She’s quite interesting, this player you’ve chosen to observe,” Rowan said, adding, “I wonder what sort of trouble she’ll get into if we keep following her.”

“Well, she’s getting ready to go,” Bram snapped his fingers, causing Nike’s status window to disappear, “so we’re bound to find out. It’ll be fun…”

Tragic as Nike’s circumstances were, it didn’t seem to be holding her back. Finished with administering first aid, the pixie-haired staff wielder renewed her trek through the forest while her observers followed close behind. Eventually, she found it; the tracks of something much larger than a wolpertinger lumbering through the undergrowth.

“About damn time,” she said.

Nike tapped on [Map] and recorded her progress.

It was one of the job requirements of an alpha tester; the need to record any details they discovered while roaming Aarde, believing this information could improve the game. In truth, mapping out hunting spots or sources for new materials benefited Lotharin and not the fictional game Nike believed she was playing.

Once she was done recording her analysis, Nike resumed her search. She was an arrow flying toward her prey, and nothing else disturbed the passage of her flight because nothing could draw close enough to bother her now that Rowan had decided to intervene.

“You’re bored, aren’t you?” Bram guessed.

He could see the glint of magic in her eyes.

“I’m simply trying to be helpful. Nike’s had enough practice. She’ll need to preserve her strength for her real quarry,” Rowan answered.

Many large monsters were roaming these woods besides wolpertingers, but the fel beasts that drew close to Nike turned away after sensing the much more dangerous predator stalking her. Of course, this so-called predator wasn’t a danger to Nike at all, but the fel beasts who dared get in the way were fair game for Rowan. And, thanks to her hidden protector, Nike soon found her quarry without much trouble.

“Finally,” she and Bram said together.

Nike turned, her brow creasing.

“Who’s there?”

Bram had already dived into a clump of bushes before Nike caught him.

He hadn’t meant to speak aloud, but thanks to Rowan keeping the larger beasts from attacking Nike, running around the forest without anything to spectate was starting to bore Bram, and he was just so glad this quest was near its end.

“Anyone there?”

Nothing.

Bram kept his mouth shut this time, and he avoided the gaze of judgment heating up the back of his neck.

Nike sighed. “Get a grip. It’s just nerves.”

She turned back toward her prey. Rather, the cave entrance she assumed was a red grizzly’s lair, and she wouldn’t be wrong in her assumption. The claw marks on the stones surrounding the cave’s entrance hinted as much.

It looked like any other beast’s cave one might find along the mountainside, a hole in the wall of the cliff face. There was nothing unnatural about it. Nor did it exude an air of malevolence like Rowan’s Cursed Cave had…except the ground around it was littered with bones. Most of it belonged to other fel beasts, but a few were distinctly human. Their skulls were hard to miss.

“A maneater,” Rowan whispered ominously. “Our player might not survive this…and her death, should it come to pass, will be truly brutal…”